


A Book Cover

by LadyBookwormWithTeeth



Series: NSFW Drabble Meme Challenge [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bathtubs, Dark One Belle, F/M, Hair Washing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBookwormWithTeeth/pseuds/LadyBookwormWithTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark One asks her servant to wash her hair.<br/>A sequel to SERVITUDE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Book Cover

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: MaddieBonanaFona

At first, Rumpelstiltskin did his best not to touch the Dark One's skin. It was inhuman and repellent, like the skin of a lizard. It wasn't so difficult to avoid it, though. Among his menial duties was to help her get ready for bed, but that only went as far as unlacing her corset and helping her undress to her undergarments. Sometimes, after she had changed into a nightgown, he'd brush her hair. One hundred brushes, no more, no less. She was very specific about that.

That night, as he entered her chambers, she had already wrapped herself in a robe.

“No corsets tonight?” he remark, a little defiant. He couldn't help it. Being her servant made him edgy, and even though she had not asked for anything too demeaning, he was always waiting for her cruelty to show. He doubted she had dealt for his services just to serve meals, mend dresses, and help her prepare for bed. If that was all, she'd have been better off with a lady's maid.

The Dark One turned from her window, her skin glistening by the candlelight. Under the sun, it could sparkle like gold if the light was right. But under the yellow flame of her many candles, it turned into a sickening green. Though her eyes were of a pleasant shade of blue, the iris was a little too big, turning every glance into a stare. The only part of her that resembled a normal human being were her lips, which held on to a pink color and a non-threatening smile.

“I've changed already,” she explained, arms folded across her chest.

“Should I do your hair, then?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. She always made him ask, even though it would save them both time to just tell him what she wanted.

“Do you need anything from me tonight, Mistress?”

“Why do you insist on calling me Mistress when I've already told you you don't have to?” she said. The whole week she had asked him to call her by her name, but he refused to. He had no illusions over their relationship. She was the Mistress of the castle, and he was the servant. That was it.

“I don't see why not,” he argued. “We are not equals. We surely aren't friends.”

She shrugged, forfeiting the debating with indifference.

“Do you need anything from me tonight, Mistress? If not, I'd rather retire to my room.”

He started turning, but she stopped him. “I'd like your help with my bath.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her, from head to toes, noticing her bare feet for the first time. Underneath the robe, she was probably naked. The thought filled him with dread. He often wondered why she had dealt for a man to be her servant and companion when a woman would have probably been better suited. That the reason was because she wanted a lover had crossed his mind, even though he wasn't the kind of man women lusted after.

“What will you have me do?” he asked, through gritted teeth.

“I want you to wash my hair.”

“Because you forgot how to do it on your own?”

The Dark One didn't answer. Rumpelstiltskin was getting familiar with the many types of silence she used. Sometimes, they were more expressive than her words. This one was heavy and verging on frustration. She didn't appreciate being called out on something that she had the right to request.

“I can wash my own hair,” she said, paused and dangerous. “But I'd like your help tonight.”

“May I ask why?”

“You may not,” she replied, putting an end to the discussion. “But if you find my request to be improper, it is your right. You can stay here and mend my cape while I bathe. Though that will probably take you longer and require a lot more effort.”

Rumpelstiltskin tapped on the handle of his cane, considering his choices. That cape – which she had proclaimed to be her favorite – had been ripped in so many places that his first reaction upon seeing it had been to ask her if she had been caught in a briarpatch. He already spent most of his days on it trying to restore it to its former glory, the thought of staring at it for the next hour was even more unpleasant than the possibility of seeing her naked.

“As my Mistress wishes,” he answered, bitterly.

“Good. Come with me.”

He followed her into her bathroom, a rather sumptuous room, covered in white marble. No mirrors anywhere. The Dark One disliked mirrors. She never told him why, but he didn’t need her to. If he looked like her, he wouldn’t want to stare at himself every day in the mirror either. At the farthest wall, there was a bathtub, already filled with warm water. Above it, a shelf with a collection of flasks. A wooden stool was close by, so simple it looked misplaced among such luxury.

“I thought of having you kneel,” she said, regarding the ugly stool. “But there’s no need to cause you pain. Is there?”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, ignoring her last remark.

“Turn to the wall as I undress.”

Rumpelstiltskin was only too glad to obey. He turned around and looked at the door she had closed as they entered the room. Then, came the whisper of fabric as she undid the sash around her waist, followed by the sound of it slipping down her body and hitting the floor. For a moment, she didn’t move, allowing silence to fill the space between his tension and her nudity. Rumpelstiltskin could only breathe again when he heard the water moving as she entered the bathtub.

“May I turn around now?” he asked, assuming she was properly covered now, although he didn’t think water would shield her very effectively.

“You may,” she answered. “Hang my robe and take your place at the stool.”

Rumpelstiltskin glanced at her, barely registering that she was fully submerged into the water before focusing on her robe. She only emerged when he sat down on the stool. From where he was sitting, he had a good view of her shoulders and neck, but only the top of her chest, which she usually displayed in her daily clothing. The rest of her body was covered in water but he couldn’t see it. She had turned the water murky to preserve some sort of modesty. Her hands surfaced and collected her wet hair.

“You better fold your sleeves,” she said, beckoning to get closer to him and throwing her hair over the edge of the bathtub. “I’d hate for you to get wet. Use the purple flask.”

With that final bit of advice, she rested back and submerged her arms into the water again.

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her now. Underneath the murky water, her silhouette was visible, but not much else. Even the color of her skin was hard to make out. He hadn't realized just how small her body actually was. It looked fragile like this. All the power of the universe inside such a tiny woman. No wonder she had to look the way she did. Maybe it was her choice, a way to protect herself.

“You’re stalling,” she said, startling him. “Would you rather do my cape?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“My name is Belle. Don’t call me Mistress.”

He took her hair in his hands. He had brushed it many times before, but he was still not used to the feeling of it. It was like holding strands of silk, which felt so unlike the rest of her appearance that it surprised him the first time he touched it. It slipped through his fingers in perfect curls and the knots came undone so easily.

The liquid in the purple flask foamed her hair with only a few drops and filled the room with a pleasant scent he couldn’t quite identify. He had smelled it on her before, but never dared to ask what it was. Some exotic flower was his guess. Something so rare only the Dark One could afford. Milah was very selective when buying her cosmetics, and not even her most expensive perfume smelled this nice.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't know exactly how to do this. He had washed Bae's hair when he was a boy, but this was something else altogether. The Dark One had long strands of hair, which were harder to manage, and he couldn't just shush her if she started to whine. But judging by the way she was humming quietly as he massaged her scalp, he'd dare say he was doing it right. Her skin might be rough, but he was still gentle. So far, she had been understanding of his mistakes and his stubbornness, but there was no reason to try his luck. Her patience might run out if he pulled her hair too harshly. Besides, his pace seemed to please her. Her lips had formed a little smile and she wasn't moving. Like this, she looked relaxed and happy, as if she had fallen asleep. He'd go as far as to say that she looked beautiful.

Rumpelstiltskin pulled the wet strands of hair together and, in doing so, his fingers brushed against the back of her neck. At first, he didn't even realize it. It was so unlike Milah's skin. His wife, back when she still wanted him to touch her, was smooth and familiar. The Dark One was not. But it wasn't nearly as unpleasant as he feared it would be. It didn't feel like the skin of a lizard. More like the leather on the cover of a book.

But the moment the association came to him, she slipped away and sank into the water, leaving him with foam covered fingers and a feeling of emptiness in his hands. Rumpelstiltskin waited, the seconds ticking by. He was about to leave – or perhaps dare to look for her in the water – when she emerged, sucking in a deep breath.

“I'm sorry,” he said, for good measure, though he had no idea what he could have done wrong.

She wrapped her arms around herself, keeping her back to him. Water dripped down her spine and Rumpelstiltskin felt the urge to wipe it away with his fingers, just so he could touch her again, his repulse quickly turning into curiosity.

Her face turned so that he could see her profile. Large blue eyes. Pink lips. The skin of a book.

“No apology necessary,” she told him. “You did everything right.”

“Would you like me to continue?”

“No need. You can go to your bedroom now. Thank you.”

Rumpelstiltskin thought of insisting, but held his tongue. It wasn't his place to contest her or offer more than she was already taking. And she had taken everything she needed from him tonight. It was time to leave her alone.

 


End file.
